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It was sad, she agreed, but going to estate sales made you appreciative of other lives. The collecting and collecting, the joy in all that,
then the dispersal. Finding the treasure in the treasure of others, and getting it
for a pittance. Seeing the value in what others dismissed as debris of the deceased.
A recent acquisition was her tea box. It was the size of an ottoman; the inside lined with tin, the outside covered in a faded fabric. The agent insisted, contents included, layers of scrap fabric.
Emptying it on her kitchen floor, she unfolded a wedding kimono.

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